The _Elephant's Child_ rested on the surface of the asteroid Oasis, a
waterless, airless, cold and gray ball as uninviting as any solid body
in the universe. At the entrance to Air-lock One, the officers stood in
a tight group listening to Pinkham; their spacesuits were fastened on,
only the helmets remaining to be donned; their gloves were the modified
digitmits which enabled the wearers to hold small objects and to operate
machinery or firearms.
There were seven officers, and now three crewmen in spacesuits joined
them. Jerry, whose wound was nearly healed already, thanks to the
sulfaspray, passed out guns from the captain's collection. Each man
carried a handgun, or, in two cases a long rifle. The ammunition for all
amounted to one thousand two hundred and five rounds, in the main
handgun cartridges. Pink had decided against using the Kentucky rifle,
which was difficult for a modern man to load.
At each belt hung half a dozen curious objects, shaped like bottles but
of a dull gray color and rough surface texture. These sloshed and
gurgled when the men moved.
Pink concluded his instructions on the use of the weapons and the gray
bottle-things. "Remember," he said, "keep in touch by your radio, and
don't travel more than a mile from the ship if you can help it. Try the
lure first, then when the containers are full, the guns. Be sure to keep
at least one portion of lure for emergency; don't use it all." He
grinned. "And don't drink any of the lure."
The men laughed, easing tension. Pink went on. "You'll have some trouble
adjusting to the gravity--our average weight will be six or seven
pounds, or, in Jerry's case, three or four." They chuckled again.
"Remember we don't know how they'll react, so keep your minds open and
use your own judgment in everything. Now let's go."
As he turned and activated the sliding panel that covered the first
chamber of the air-lock, and they all settled their helmets down onto
their shoulders and fastened them, an eleventh figure joined them, its
helmet already in place. Jerry, shaking his head reprovingly, handed
this one the last weapon, a small automatic from the so-called "Gangster
Age" of America. Then they went into the air-lock and the door shut
tight behind them.
In the control room, Jackson and a few others watched tensely on the
viewscreen as one by one the landing party jumped to the planetoid. He
looked at his watch. "Two hours," he said. "Oh my God, I hope they make
it!" For in precisely two hours, if they had not returned to the ship,
Jackson was to blow it to metallic dust, and all the remaining humans
with it.
Forty miles above the surface of the small world, the _Diogenes_ and the
_Cottabus_ cruised at a good rate of speed, to keep their hulls free of
hitchhiking giants while watching the progress of the expedition.
On the floor of Pinkham's quarters, the dying alien lay alone and cursed
weakly at the sly and crafty doublecross he had so stupidly fallen for.
He called upon a number of strange gods to curse these mortals; among
the names he uttered was that of a deity called Allah.
In dressing room B, a technician discovered a crewman who was sitting
against a wall rubbing his skull. "Somebody bopped me," said the man
glumly. "I'm supposed to go out there and blast giants, dammit. Who
could have swiped me so hard?"
* * * * *
Pink took an experimental hop. It should have carried him, at Terra
gravity, about two feet. He soared over a hillock and came down gently
on a plain of rock that looked like lava; his hop had carried him some
scores of yards. He felt for an instant like a kid let loose on a
wonderful playground. Then he snapped into it and began to scan the
terrain for signs of life.
To the right was the mountain they had seen from the descending ship,
with its irregular rows of gaping holes which suggested caves and
therefore possible habitations. It wouldn't take more than five minutes
to reach them at an easy amble, or a minute at a brisk walk; about a
mile away, they seemed.
Then with a horrified start he remembered the giant who had been atop
his ship. Washington Daley had been delegated to deal with it--and Pink
had forgotten, had not even glanced back to see how his lieutenant was
making out! He whirled neglecting caution, and fell on his face. Luckily
he came down like a big bulky feather, and caught himself and bounced up
again, a rubber ball of a man on this alien world Oasis.
He was just in time to see the giant, bending forward over the front of
the ship, begin to blur and stream downward toward the tiny figure of
the human who stood below him. In a moment he resembled a cloud of
tobacco-smoke, drawn into the gray container in Daley's hand. He
vanished entirely, Daley clapped on the sealing lid, and gave a
triumphant wave to his captain. Pink blew out a breath of gratitude and
remorse; he'd have to be on his toes from now on, really vibrant with
watchfulness. Laxity in one thing could lose this weird battle.
Strung out in a straggling line of erratically progressing units, the
men of Earth headed for the caves. In a time so short as to be faintly
ridiculous, they were moving up the mountainside. The gaping holes
_were_ caves, and obviously deep ones. Pink stood at the entrance of one
for a moment, checking on the number of his men; then he waved a hand
over his head, and entered the great den. Behind him came another
figure, one whose slimness told him it was probably Jerry.
Their chest lamps lit up the interior, which was as gray, knobby, and
featureless as the outside world. Pink held his Colt .44 in his right
hand, one of the bottles in his left. The technicians of the _Elephant's
Child_ had worked like drudges over those bottles....
Every bottle of liquor aboard had been requisitioned. The liquid had
been poured into plastic containers; only a few spoonfuls had been left
in each bottle.
Then lead, melted down and beaten into sheets, was wrapped around each
bottle, forming a thin and chinkless layer over all the glass but the
lip; and the lead was painted with tough plastikoid paint, which covered
it with a film one-twentieth of an inch thick. Caps of lead were made
for the bottles. At the end of a couple of hours, they had sixty-six
bottles, glass inside, lead covered, and topped off with plastikoid
which would conceal the presence of lead from any known test short of
X-ray.
Each of the eleven men carried six of these bottles, then, actually lead
containers, but apparently plastikoid; the lead stoppers were concealed
in joerg-hide bags. If the giant who had been beaten in the spaceship
was a criterion, the enemy would not recognize the presence of lead
until it actually touched them--and then, thought Pink, with a quick
prayer, it would be too late for them.
Beaming the radio to a distance of ten feet, he said, "Hey, Jerry, want
to lay a bet on who bags the first brute?"
"Sure. Twenty bucks says I get him. And don't call me Jerry," said the
sweet, quiet, and thoroughly startling voice of organicus officer Circe
Smith.